


Ticklish

by naboru



Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Implied Relationships, M/M, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-06
Updated: 2016-03-06
Packaged: 2018-05-25 03:26:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6178399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/naboru/pseuds/naboru
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blast Off has his own way to make Vortex make room on the berth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ticklish

**Author's Note:**

> **Continuity:** G1 (part of the [Dysfunction AU](http://community.livejournal.com/lost_carcosa/19574.html#cutid1)), pre-war  
>  **Characters:** Blast Off, Vortex, implied Blast Off/Vortex  
>  **Disclaimer:** Sadly, nothing is mine.  
>  **Beta:** ultharkitty

Sighing, Blast Off shut his large window-screen off, and stood up. He was tired, but relaxed. Freshly showered, a cube of low grade in his hand, he walked to his bedroom. His thoughts were on an article that he’d read earlier. It had been on a newly discovered alien race, and they seemed to be really interesting.

Maybe he could ask one of his former colleagues to get copies of the Altihex Institute’ files later. After all, he was still a scientist.

A scientist with a heliformer sprawled over his berth.

Blast Off sighed again at the view.

Vortex lay on his front, his rotor blades standing out in all three directions, and his arms and legs spread out in a way that Blast Off doubted was comfortable. There was hardly any room left for Blast Off, and he sat down on the edge.

He wondered when it had become normal for Vortex to just visit and recharge here. The ‘copter hadn’t even wanted to interface. He’d just stood in front of the door, sat with Blast Off on the sofa and they’d talked a little. It had been like that for several orns now, and Blast Off was probably better off without knowing the reason. Last time it’d been like this, Vortex’ apartment had blown up.

Blast Off huffed. He could give Vortex his entry code for the door. That’d save him from the annoying ringing the ‘copter always did when he visited.

But maybe that wasn’t a good idea at all.

Blast Off shook his head slightly. Considered how much space Vortex needed on the berth, it definitely wasn’t a good idea.

The shuttle didn’t bother to saying anything about it. The heliformer was already in recharge, having gone to rest almost two joors before Blast Off. With the tiniest grin, Blast Off leant back a little to reach Vortex’ legs. He stroked down from the back of the knee to the foot, and caught the landing gear. His fingers fondled it briefly, and couldn’t do much more when Vortex’ leg twitched and jerked away.

Blast Off didn’t stop. He just repeated the action, and this time got a stronger reaction.

Vortex’ vents stuttered, his rotors shuddered, and his engine gave a spurting noise.

The shuttle had almost to laugh at it.

“Wasn noyouno,” Vortex mumbled, his face pressed into the berth’s covering.

“Turn over and make room. I want to recharge,” Blast Off said blankly, and teased the landing gear again.

“I hate you,” Vortex said, but it lacked bite.

“No, you don’t. Now make room.”

“I do hate you.” Vortex was still sleepy. “I hate when anyone does that. It tickles.” The optics were still offline when the heliformer rolled to his side, his back at the wall, legs bent that Blast Off wouldn’t be able to get to his feet again. “I hate tickling,” Vortex added, sounding as though he'd be back in recharge any moment.

Emptying his cube, Blast Off exhaled air, and allowed the corners of his mouth to tug up slightly.


End file.
